


Black Wave

by allpurposeflower



Category: Voltron: Defender of the Universe (1984), Voltron: Legendary Defender, Voltron: Lion Voltron
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Lance is 18 Keith is 19, M/M, Smut, but it was worth it, klance, tbh this was so self indulgent, the works, this is my first fic so be kind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-26 18:52:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13863837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allpurposeflower/pseuds/allpurposeflower
Summary: It was at this time Keith experienced an emotion he had never had before, staring at Lance’s delightfully pleasing body whilst resting between his knees. It was a mix of things he’d known - contentment, the somehow gratifying pain in his chest, and the blissful buzzing that seemed to take over his entire body. For the most part, however, what overcame him was the near-obsessive compulsion to devour Lance entirely, an insatiable urge and craving to screw him until they’d both burst and scatter across the galaxy. His entire body demanded to taste him somehow, to feel his cock twitch in Keith’s hands, to hear his own name on Lance’s lips while he came; the smutty, filthy devoir of his own Galra blood.This involves fluff, angst, smut, naughty things. Keith hates everything about Lance that he secretly likes.





	Black Wave

**Author's Note:**

> 11930 words of pure, pure sin. This is a first, and I appreciate feedback and recommendations, so please leave your thoughts in the comments!

Keith’s fourth gladiator of the evening clattered to the floor in two separate pieces in front of him, sizzling with exposed electricity. His chest heaved slightly, just beginning to feel the effects of exercise, his head buzzing with the rush of blood. This, Keith was fine with. Rigorous training was always the best way to get out of dealing with any sort of emotion he couldn’t handle. 

“Begin training sequence 5,” he panted.

A fifth gladiator slammed down to the floor a few metres ahead, landing with its hand to the floor in classic drone fashion. Immediately, before straightening up, it began running towards the center of the arena. This surprised Keith slightly, since usually they wait for him to advance first, but he had long ago learned to deal with surprises. Perfect, he thought instead. Just where I was headed.

They met in the middle, metal clashing and scraping against each other. Keith brought his sword behind his torso, dodging a punch, and swung it to the drone’s side. It jumped - albeit a little too late - and he ended up victorious with a small side swipe. The spot where Keith had nabbed him glowed a deep, ruby purple. He continued dodging punches and blows, and retaliated with strong swings with his bayard and angry kicks - angry, angry kicks. After all, that’s why Keith was usually training with the gladiator one-on-one anyways; he was angry. Or, he was frustrated, or upset, or sad, or missing someone, or feeling all at once. Although, admittedly, he wasn’t fantastic at reading people, usually he could tell at least what he himself was feeling. This time, though, he couldn’t. Or, at least, he did a little bit; he knew he was frustrated because he couldn’t identify his emotions, but he was mostly confused because he had no idea where all these unrecognizable feelings were coming from. Most especially because he felt every single one of them when he looked at Lance.

Keith shoved his sword through the gladiators chest furiously, the familiar crackle and buzz of electricity humming in his ears. He forced it in a few inches deeper, revelling in the satisfaction of the drone crumpling to the floor once he removed it. 

He deactivated his bayard momentarily to run his fingers through his sweat slicked hair, panting heavily. Bringing half of it up to the crown of his head, he gathered it up into a tight ponytail and out of his face, taking a small moment for some deep breaths before requesting a sixth level.

The gladiators continued to pour in, and Keith’s thoughts continued to race, which only brought more heat to his head. This was precisely what he had come to training to get rid of, and he was only delving deeper into his feelings. Fuck that, he thought, taking a wide swing at his seventh gladiator, heart pumping aggressively. Feelings were, in his mind, meant to be ignored, not understood. Pushing them aside was what he knew best - besides, it’s not like he ever had an outlet for them before Shiro. Jumping from house to house and school to school, did that to you, Keith supposed; even then, he doubted anyone here understood that.

Suddenly, Keith was swiped off of his feet and onto his back, and he brought up his sword to protect his neck while the gladiator reached for him, aggressively pushing the bayard closer to his sweat drenched body. The pressure on his chest reminded him of a feeling similar to what he felt when Lance dropped pick up lines on Allura, or threw his arm around the shoulder of a vaguely feminine alien. It brought acid up from his stomach and tightened his lungs, made him clench his fists in an attempt to prevent himself from being sick. He managed to kick the drone between his legs off of him using his knees with a sudden surge of anger, and Keith was up in an instant before the crunch of the gladiator’s armor hitting the floor sounded. He charged towards it, sword raised, screaming out of pure emotional frustration and pummeled it to the floor, rolling several times before he managed to balance himself on top of it and began to beat it into the ground, sword forgotten. His hands started to ache from slamming its chest, until it stopped moving, purple fading into black, and Keith’s lungs burned with the lack of oxygen. 

Vaguely feminine aliens weren’t guaranteed to be female, were they? After all, he wasn’t even sure the concept of sex existed on planets billions of light years away from earth. There could be more or less than 2 sexes, let alone genders, on planets they’ve visited. Lance ought to know that. He knew Lance was gullible, but he wasn’t dumb. There was no way he would be oblivious to the idea that what he was flirting with was probably nowhere near Earth’s concept of women. Keith gazed into the single, dark eye of the dead gladiator, his knees so tense they crunched into its hips. He’d just beat this thing to death out of anger. He felt insane. Sighing, he rolled off, lying parallel to his defeated enemy and placing a hand on his rapidly rising stomach. Was Lance even straight? He wondered. His heart suddenly stirred, stuttering like a broken engine, and this was enough to get him back on his feet.

“Begin training sequence 8.”

As he fought, he thought of Lance, which forced him to fight harder, more aggressively, and it only made him confused on another level. Everytime his name entered Keith’s head he felt a gush of energy and frustration, which he could only channel towards his enemy - although right now, it felt like Lance was his enemy. His giant ego constantly fucked up their battle tactics, and he refused to admit any sort of defeat. He got distracted by pretty figures on important missions, and sometimes he’d thrown himself in front of Keith’s assigned opponents without any warning - for what he’d guessed was the glory of taking down more than what Shiro thought he could handle. It made Keith pissed, absolutely outraged, especially because Lance looked so fucking good while he did it. He’d caught himself on more occasions than he’d like to admit admiring his broad shoulders, the gorgeous way his legs flexed while standing between Keith and the druids. He hated Lance’s cocky grin, and the way he looked at him when he managed to score a good shot, with those absolutely breathtaking golden brown eyes, and his annoying voice when he bragged about it after returning to the castle. He’d be lying straight through his teeth if he said he hadn’t gotten turned on at least once observing Lance fighting. Keith bit his lip as hard as he could to prevent the blood in his head from rushing anywhere else.

He’d let his mind wander too far, he realized, while he was flying backwards in the air. There was a deep pain in his stomach, and he suspected he’d probably been kicked by the drone before he’d ended up here, hurtling towards the ground. Keith wasn’t surprised. Sure, flustered, and upset at himself for losing focus, but he wasn’t surprised. That would imply that it was his his first time being wrecked by an Altean simulator while his thoughts were on Lance, which was very, very untrue. In fact, this was usually how it ended - Keith, striking the floor, requesting the simulator to pause while he took gasping breaths. He’d never really been able to heal his aching chest without making every other part of his body - knees, hips, shoulders, and sometimes even his groin - ache first. For the second time this session, Keith flopped over on the ground, laying belly up.

Tentatively, he let himself close his eyes. Perhaps this was why he’d started having difficulties sleeping at night, or resting his eyes in general; everytime he closed them, Lance’s olive coloured skin would appear. Along trailed his bashful, open eyed expressions, curved lips, and his soft mop of brown hair. Although Keith was pretty sure he hated the kid, he couldn’t help but get close to him, to familiarize himself with every freckle on Lance’s skin. Another wave of confusion rolled over him, rattling in his ribcage and spine. If he hated him so much, why did he always choose to stand closest to him, to fight alongside him? Even, sometimes, over Shiro?

Keith froze at the sound of the door opening and feet softly padding in, but he refused to open his eyes. He was scared of who might be coming in, and why they hadn’t said anything to him yet, but to open his eyes would also mean tearing himself from Lance’s face, his sweet smile, his tight abdomen -

Whoever came in was now standing so close to his resting body he could feel the warmth of their ankles at his biceps. He considered taking a peek, barely opening his left eye up and away from Lance, to observe -

Lance?

“Why are you napping on the training deck?” Lance asked, his head cocking to the side in confusion. He held his helmet in his hands, and was dressed in the paladin gear that tended to make Keith’s head swirl. At this, Keith groaned, letting his head fall to the ground again as he shut his eyes once more.

“I’m not napping, Lance. I’m just resting.” 

Lance made a noise of understanding. Keith couldn’t help it - why close his eyes again when Lance was right here, in all his beautified glory? He peeked again - just barely - to watch Lance scan down his body. He was bending over him, hands at his hips, curiously studying his figure.

Suddenly, Keith felt very self-conscious. He didn’t exactly look his best right now, with dried sweat and damp hair. 

“Oh, now I see it. My bad,” Lance apologized.

“What? See what?” Keith frowned.

“The tent you’d pitched. I should have noticed you were resting before I even asked,” He snickered.

Keith yelped, sitting up only to grind his teeth. He was lying - Keith didn’t actually have a hard-on - and now he looked like a fool. Now Lance knew, because Keith fell for it, that he was thinking nasty thoughts. 

“You’re a shithead,” he growled, rolling his eyes, and flopped his back onto the floor again.

To this, Lance said nothing. He just stood there while Keith rested for a few minutes. The silence confused him slightly, which was exhausting, because he’d literally never felt more confused in his life. He didn’t understand what Lance was doing, but he was too afraid to open his eyes for the third time to find out. After it stretched on for too long, Keith began to get uncomfortable, and asked, “What are you even doing here?”

He internally winced. It came out a lot more aggressive and condescending than he’d intended. 

“Well, you know, I train, too. I need some practice with the gladiator.” He replied, his voice verging on defensive. Keith didn’t blame him.

“Oh good. I need some rest anyways,” Keith said, and began to get up. His body protested furiously, but he ignored the aches and pains and rose, dusted himself off, and started making his way over to his dropped bayard.

“Wait!” Lance jumped. Keith turned around, intrigued. “Well, I know I do need some one-on-one practice.” He shifted his eyes nervously, skirting around Keith’s eye contact. “But, since you’re here, why don’t we try out some team practice?”

Keith narrowed his eyes skeptically. What was up with him?

“Come on, buddy. Lord knows we need it. Some guy-on-guy action, huh? Who could resist that?” Lance grinned and pointed his fingers at him, resembling a gun, and - although Keith would never admit it - he was right about him not being able to resist. 

“Alright, fine,” he grumbled. Besides, he couldn’t really give up the opportunity to see Lance like this. Keith already knew he looked his best when fighting off drones beside him, and that was all he’d be doing. “Begin training sequence.”

“Would you like to resume from current sequence eight? Or would you like to start over?” The castle quipped back. Keith glanced over his shoulder to look at the gladiator that had kicked his ass, and then to Lance, whose mouth was agape with surprise. 

“Eight? Keith, buddy, what were you doing?” 

Keith blushed at the sound of his name coming from Lance’s mouth and turned away quickly, clearing his throat. “Start over, please.”

And so they fought together, and Lance looked better than ever. His paladin armour defined every delectable curve in his body, and Keith had never seized a better opportunity before in his life. The only time he couldn’t see Lance was when they were back to back, bodies pressed together in a slick sweat, and even then he really had no reason to complain. He still, however, couldn’t understand how he could so readily admire Lance’s body and dislike nearly every other part of him. Every way he had made Keith feel so far was unfamiliar and unpleasant, and made his stomach jump and turn. Lance had given him heart palpitations on numerous occasions, which was not only bad for his health, but also downright annoying, especially when he was trying to focus on a battle layout - or worse, when he was in the middle of an armed conflict. Nonetheless, he refused to regret his decision to train with him, especially as he unabashedly glanced at Lance’s ass whilst he bent down to duck a shot.

Unfortunately, Keith had been stationed directly behind Lance, and the shot had hit him square in the chest. His body was thrown backwards, and he bounced off the floor several times before he was able to recover and stand - by which the time Lance was on the floor, overwhelmed by the amount of drones, and had most likely taken a couple blows himself. Although Keith knew, no doubt, how resilient Lance was in the heat of battle, and how truly harmless training sequences were, a wave of instinctual and uncontrollable worry washed over him anyways. Without hesitation, Keith sprinted towards him, slicing through any robots in his way, before Lance rose to his knees and shouted over the clamour of metal.

“End training sequence, now!”

The drones dropped to the floor immediately, and Keith was left standing, huffing and puffing, amidst the bodies.

“Why would you do that? I almost had you!” Keith demanded. A tone of anger escaped through his voice. “We’re not going to get better if we pause every time we make mistakes!”

Lance stood up, brushing off his knees. “Keith, calm down,” he said softly, yet somehow managed to hint at a level of strictness. Again, the way Keith’s name moved from between Lance’s lips forced a blush to steadily creep up into his cheeks. He was thankful for having trained so rigorously - at least it could be excused this time. “Let’s relax a bit.”

Keith was surprised he didn’t snark back some sort of retort, and instead took in huge gulps of air to balance his body out from the exercise. 

“Are you good?” Lance asked, this time his tone soft without the strict. Keith’s heart had suddenly taken to learning a new acrobatic move. “I didn’t actually see what happened there.”

“I’m fine.” Keith straightened up, panting still. “I got shot, but I’m fine.” He bit back the urge to blame it on Lance’s defenses, and instead asked, “You?”

“Ditto.”

Keith was glad Lance was okay. It was just a training session, and it was harmless, but he was still thankful - it was better a training session than in real battle. The relief was always much stronger when they returned from an actual mission.

They rested for some few minutes, Keith with crossed arms and leaning on the wall, and Lance on his stomach with his head propped up by his hands. This time, the silence was nice, and neither of them ruined it. It gave Keith the short opportunity to really see, in his mind’s eye, what Lance’s ass looked like bent over - and, God, was it worth the blow to his chest. They hadn’t been on a mission in so long that Keith forgot how appetizing Lance looked while he fought, let alone bent over in his paladin suit. He let out a small, unintentional moan thinking about it. He really did look a thousand times more delicious than what Hunk put on the dinner table. 

“You sure you’re good?” Lance pressed. He had to have been referencing Keith’s unintentional moaning - Whoops, he thought. Keith instantly brought his hand to his chest as a cover-up, leaning over as if he was in pain. 

“Yes,” he replied, hoping his blush could still be excused. “Sorry.”

Again, they returned to silence, save for the desperate panting and the occasional shift of metal from the fallen droids. Suddenly, a second low growl escaped into the air - this time sourced from Lance’s stomach.

“Hey man,” Lance spoke, laughing lightly. “What do you say we grab something to eat? I’m pretty much starving.” 

Keith took in a deep breath out of annoyance. Leave it to Lance to ignore training. Keith wondered, frustrated, what he was even doing there showing up for one round and quitting the moment things got too difficult. Typical - he sighed heavily, shaking his head, and turned to walk away. It was like Lance didn’t even notice - he continued to ramble on, first about the food he was planning on begging Hunk to make for him, and then about a brief history lesson Pidge had provided him on Alan Turing, and Keith was reminded why he hated Lance - he absolutely never shut up.

“-And, hey, Keith before you go - which, a no would have suited just fine, thanks - how in the world did you manage to get hit by that blast directly in the chest?” Lance asked. “Wouldn’t you have been staring at it in the same direction as I was? Wouldn’t you have seen him?”  
Keith skirted to a stop. “What are you talking about?” His heart pounded dramatically in his chest, so loud he was afraid Lance would hear it.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were admiring my hot bod.” 

Keith’s jaw ground into his teeth.

“Which, hey, that would be fine! I wouldn’t have minded. It’s a great compliment, actually,” Lance continued. His voice itself had its own air of arrogance, and, if Keith weren’t so suddenly angry, he’d actually be fucking impressed. Lance had flipped over and was now sitting up, talking to Keith’s back and closed fists.

The truth was, Keith had no idea why he blew up, but suddenly his anger became explosive. It ripped through his body, blood pumping to every muscle he could and couldn’t name. Perhaps it was because he hadn’t learned to handle confrontation properly, or because he’d never fully gotten through the feelings he’d come to deal with earlier - or maybe, even, because Keith was scared. Frightened, in fact, that Lance could look at him with such innocence, and Keith would respond in a way that he didn’t fully understand. Every thought prior to Lance’s initial presence in the arena slammed forward. Each frustration, especially the Why Lance?’s, demanded to be seen and heard - and Keith listened.

His body surged forward, the bayard in his hand extending to form his traditional sword. Lance scrambled up, obviously sensing impending danger, and formed his shield, backing away from Keith’s charge as fast as he could while still facing forward to defend himself. 

The only thing Keith could really even begin to comprehend in that moment was the intense desire to get rid of such awful feelings - the uncomfortable and incomprehensible emotions that dared to accommodate Lance’s presence nearly every time he was in the room, and also to wipe that fucking stupid, sly smirk off Lance’s dumb, attractive face.  
He began to strike at Lance’s shield, his attacks bouncing off consecutively. His emotions were putting up a barrier between himself and his strength, and it only made him more furious.

“Keith -” Lance demanded through gritted teeth and quick blows, “What - are - you doing?”

Keith had no idea. He wasn’t using any sort of strategy - he was only hitting Lance’s shield. He was overcome with the same uncontrollable need as earlier, the one from before he pummelled the gladiator into the ground with his fists. He was only using his weapon to express his anger, although he had succeeded in wiping Lance’s smile away. His heart gave a painful twang - wasn’t that what he wanted? - before another surge of frustration overcame him at the prospect of battling more confusion, and he knocked Lance’s shield from his hands.

Without hesitation, Keith forced the flat side of his sword onto Lance’s chest and shoved him back into the wall, both of them colliding with more force than he’d intended. It felt good, though, to feel strong. Stronger than he’d thought he was. Stronger than Lance. His chest heaved, and his stomach rolled over in his abdomen, threatening Keith that if he kept pushing himself, he might throw up. 

Stopping, but not releasing the restraint he had on Lance, Keith swallowed and forced his eyes shut, his head hanging between his shoulders. There was plenty of space between him and Lance, yet somehow he both felt too close and not close enough. He wanted to scream until his throat ripped open.

“Keith, I don’t know what’s going on, but-” Lance started, before Keith cut him off.

“Shut. Up,” He growled. “I swear to God, you don’t want to test me, Lance.”

Keith took a couple more heaving breaths while Lance remained with his back to the wall, his hands raised and resting on the sword in the same defensive position that he’d used to try to prevent Keith from pushing him further. There, they awkwardly rested, both unsure of what to do or where to go. Lance cleared his throat, and Keith slightly loosened his grip involuntarily, taking the chance to look up at Lance and at least try to begin.

Lance’s eyes weren’t as wide as Keith was expecting, and they were darker than usual. He supposed that dealing with younger siblings took the surprise out of unwarranted attacks - still, Keith pondered. His expression was hardy, but softness tugged at the corners of his jaw and lips. His eyebrows were just faintly pressed together, but no matter how hard Keith studied his expression, he couldn’t really understand what it meant. His head dipped again, but in a final effort to understand, his gaze wandered up to Lance’s eyes again, and his breath hitched.

This look - a faint tinge in Lance’s eyes - he recognized. Maybe. At least, it looked the slightest bit familiar, and as Keith searched further into Lance’s vision, he racked his brain for where he’d seen it before.

Oh, he suddenly realized. Oh. 

Keith was right - he had seen this look before, but on Lance it was more well-hidden. He couldn’t decide if it was softer or harder than his own, and he also couldn’t decide which one of those he wanted it to be. He’d seen it, glancing at himself in the mirror after a particularly amusing argument with Lance, or an unusually fantastic and victorious battle. He remembers an oddly specific incident, too: the time he and the rest of the paladins had had a snowball fight - in space, of course - and he and Lance had gone to exceptional lengths to hit each other. He’d glance at himself in the mirror and run his hand through his hair, sighing, before heading straight to the shower to - 

Keith gulped. To jack off.

Lust? Keith was seeing...lust? In Lance’s face, while looking at him?

In hindsight, Keith had never been great at making decisions without first considering the consequences. But, if he was right - and he was pretty sure he was right - he honestly didn’t care.

Keith’s sword clattered to the ground, and he grabbed Lance’s cheeks, bringing him down into a fierce, hot kiss. He could feel Lance’s breath stop with surprise. Both of them were still sweaty from fighting, but Lance leaned down anyways, grabbing Keith’s hips with such forceful passion Keith felt like he might faint. It was one thing to kiss what an hour ago he thought was his enemy, and it was another for his enemy to kiss him back - let alone with the same desperate intensity. He felt himself get pulled in closer to Lance’s torso, and he complied with his grasp; his mouth moved hard and fast against his own, and he let out a low growl he didn’t know he was actually capable of. His hands were still wrapped around Lance’s face, and he took this recognized opportunity to pull him in deeper, groaning when Lance slipped his tongue against his own. He’d had no idea. He’d had no fucking idea.

Lance’s fingers tightened around Keith’s hips before swiveling them both around and slamming Keith against the wall, this time hovering over Keith instead. Keith groaned again at the pain - since when did he get so vocal? - and he felt Lance smile against his mouth as they kissed, no doubt with pride. Lance had slowed it down slightly, and the kiss was no longer frantic, but it still carried the same sense of impending urgency that had been there when they’d started. Keith’s hand’s made their way up to Lance’s neck, and then into his hair. This time, Lance’s breath hitched, and Keith experimentally tugged. Payback, he grinned, when Lance let out a deep, breathy moan, but his victory was short lived - he felt his knees nearly give out at the sound of it. 

Everything in his body was fire, fire, fire - and when Lance pulled away, he felt like someone had momentarily trickled cold water down his spine.

“We need to get out of this arena.” He’d said, but Keith had honestly already forgotten after he’d nodded his own head. Keith took back every negative thing he’d ever said about Lance’s voice - right now, it was low, gravelly, and sounded desperate in the most pleasing and unbelievable of ways, like Lance was desperate for Keith like he had been for Lance for months. His voice was absolutely dripping with sex, and it was the best thing Keith had ever heard.

He took Lance’s hand and led him out of the arena, walking the short distance into his room. He’d never walked so fast in his life, and it was probably because he’d never been so turned on in his life. He shoved Lance in, and as soon as Lance was in, he slammed the button near the door, closing it. Lance sat on the bare bed, his knees spread apart to welcome Keith into the space; once he was there, and his hands efficiently tangled in Lance’s hair, he murmured against Keith’s stomach.

“So that’s how you got so hot, huh? With your room so close to the training deck?” Lance had wrapped his hands around Keith’s waist, and he looked up at him, smiling honestly. Keith’s cheeks flared an angry red.

“I train when I can’t sleep.” Keith took a moment’s hesitation, deciding to work out what had made Lance so fired up originally in the arena. “And Lance?” 

“Yes, sweetheart?” He responded, gazing up at him.

Keith took another moment to admire his sweet expression, before replying with another low growl.

“Shut. Up.” 

He began removing his armour, and Lance got the hint - although Keith was just barely upset that he would no longer be able to admire Lance’s body in his suit, his disappointment was quickly masked by the sexiness of black, skin tight under-armour that showed off Lance’s ripples of muscle and glorious, glorious dips and curves. 

Once it was all off, Keith climbed into Lance’s lap, his legs on either sides of his hips, and began to kiss him again, pushing him down on to his bed. Their mouths moved both with and against each other, and this time Lance introduced his tongue much earlier, to which Keith hummed in approval. He could feel the area of the suit between his legs grow tighter as soon as Lance tugged at his bottom lip - as if it already wasn’t tight enough. For the second time that day, Lance flipped Keith over until he was on his back and his head on the pillows, kissing along his jawline. For the first time in his life, Keith let out a short whimper, and Lance chuckled softly before moving to the space behind his ear. Keith didn’t have time to feel defeated or humiliated, because Lance started not only placing wet kisses there, but also began to suckle. Keith’s eyes fluttered shut, and he suspected he might actually faint.

Lance briefly moved away from his neck and returned to kissing Keith’s mouth before pulling away completely, resting his hands on the lip of his pants. Keith’s heart stuttered again. Lance looked at him, eyeing him intensely, before asking, “Is this okay?”

Keith nodded furiously. “More than okay,” he assured him, although he was more nervous than he’d ever been being in the same bed with another guy; yet if he could see every single star in the entire universe - and he’d seen plenty, now - he would wish on every single one that Lance wouldn’t stop.

“Just let me know if you change your mind,” Lance breathed, and then he was shimmying down Keith’s pants, and soon they were at his ankles and Lance was tearing them off like they were poisoning him.

Under armour left little room for underwear - no room, in fact, so when Keith’s pants came off he was completely exposed, with the exception of his shirt. Lance came back up to his lips, kissing him so hard he pressed down into the mattress, before slithering a hand down to wrap around his groin. He’d been craving some sort of pressure for days, and when Lance - Lance, of all people - finally gave it to him, his mouth dropped in pleasure. He began working him slowly, and Keith was going absolutely fucking wild, his eyes hooded and tongue resting over his bottom row of teeth. He was glad he’d gotten his first whimper over with, because he was making all sorts of uncontrollable noises now, all varying levels of embarrassing; but Lance was making him feel so good, he felt his entire body squirm under his touch.

Lance began kissing Keith’s neck, and worked his way down through sloppy wet kisses to his stomach, continuing to fuck him with his hand. If Keith didn’t pass out earlier, he had no idea how he was managing to stay conscious now with how dizzy his head was getting. Keith’s hips bucked up into Lance’s touch as he bit down softly on the skin of his abdomen, then licking the spot and placing a gentle kiss on it as if asking for forgiveness. He continued to move further downwards, until Keith could feel Lance’s breath on his dick, and then his soft, sweet lips wrapping just barely around the tip, his hand squeezing the base, his tongue just barely brushing -

“Attention, Paladins!”

Both Lance and Keith jumped at the sudden, blaringly loud and most unpleasant noise of Allura taking full advantage of the castle’s PA system. After scrambling away in a short panic, they stared at each other, Keith breathing heavily, and Lance’s expression dark with sexual frustration.

“Please be in the lounging area in 5 vargas! Coran and myself have discovered an incredible training opportunity!”

__________________________________________________________________________

Lance sighed against the hot water, cuts and scrapes stinging in tune with the slow burn of the shower. He let it soak in his hair before lathering up an ungodly - but totally necessary - amount of shampoo, closing his eyes as he worked it gently against his scalp. 

He paused for a moment, pondering, before tugging on it softly - and let out a soft, low groan. He’d had no idea how much he would love Keith grasping and pulling on it.

Keith.

He let his hands lather the rest of his body while his thoughts wandered elsewhere - to Keith’s fiery kisses, oddly fitting for the guy’s hot temper. Lance leaned his head back into the spray of water, remembering the soul searching look Keith had given him while pushing him against the wall, hot and sticky bodies flushed together. His face had shown a look of concentrated frustration, his thick eyebrows pushed together to give his face a steely, attractive appearance. Lance had guessed he was trying to read him with those deep, dark eyes, and he wondered momentarily what Keith had seen, or what he himself had looked like in that moment. He supposed he didn’t know what he looked like turned on, exactly, but for Keith to have noticed - he’s guessing, by the way he kissed him so good - it must have been pretty obvious. How could he not get so flustered? Keith had growled at him, for fuck’s sake. He’d slammed Lance into the wall, breathing heavily, and looked up at him like he both wanted to punch Lance and screw him at the same time. His lips had parted in the most desirable of ways, in the same way that Keith seemingly did everything. 

Lance shook his head in an attempt to shake the dizziness, droplets of water spraying the tile walls. He thought of the way Keith had looked at him, after Allura had so rudely interrupted, with his hooded eyes and red, slightly swollen lips; they had been glossy with saliva, and Lance deeply sighed at the idea that Keith had been drooling while he’d been (nearly) going down on him. Keith had pulled him into the sexiest, hottest kiss he’d ever shared in his life, before urging him out the door, whispering, go, go. Hijo del diablo, he wanted to do everything to Keith that he probably wasn’t allowed to.

Glancing down at his growing arousal, he sighed, not wanting to do anything to himself right now. Luckily, the ‘training opportunity’ Allura and Coran had initiated was a variety of bonding exercises wIth their lions, so it was low stress. Although this made it difficult for him to hide his slight awkwardness towards Keith in front of the others with an argument or something, at least it gave his body a small break. He wanted enough energy for later on. It was around the time everyone would settle down for their 6 hours of sleep, so it was pretty much perfect timing if they wanted to keep fooling around. Lance knew he did, but he wasn’t exactly sure about Keith - he thought he might be just as eager as him, but he couldn’t say for certain. For all he knew, Keith could have completely regretted what had happened. Lance gritted his teeth. He certainly hoped not.

He turned the shower to a quick blast of cold before hopping out, wrapping a towel around his waist while he searched for his clothes. Lance realized, as he was dragging his shirt over his head, that he was nervous. He’d been waiting for this moment all afternoon and night, but his heart pounded at the idea of walking over to Keith’s room; doubts about Keith’s attraction began to surface, but he swallowed thickly and forced his pants over his thighs, heading out the door and towards the training deck.

Just as he was passing the kitchen, Pidge turned the corner, her hair slightly matted with water and holding a towel in her hands. She greeted him politely, but that was before she leaned against the wall, just blocking him from continuing around the corner.

“Hey, loverboy,” She grinned. Lance’s eyes shifted nervously. “Where you goin’?”

“Um,” Lance stuttered. He hadn’t been expecting to run into anyone on his way to Keith’s room. He straightened up, heat involuntarily rushing to his neck. “I was on my way to the kitchen, but I sort of feel like hanging out in the lounge instead.”

“Well,” she began, “You’d better turn around, then.”

“Yep,” He replied, remaining awkwardly still.

Pidge eyed him suspiciously, and Lance could see the works of a mastermind running laps in her brain. She held back a knowing smile as best she could, and Lance fidgeted as she stared at him, wide eyes blinking innocently. 

With a curt push on her glasses, she said, “I’ve made a list, you know. Of your mistakes.”

“Of my mistakes?” Lance’s eyebrows pressed together, and he crossed his arms in defense. “What mistakes?”

“If you’re trying to keep whatever is going on between you and Keith a secret, you’d better start recognizing them.”

Lance started, but realized Pidge was most definitely too smart to believe any excuse he’d throw at her. “Alright,” he moaned. “Go ahead and brag.”

She grinned again, ear-to-ear with pride. “Your first mistake was telling everyone you were in the training deck when you raced in to the meeting. You weren’t there - at least, not when Allura had requested us. I was.”

Lance’s eyes squeezed shut with embarrassment.

“Your second mistake has been staring at Keith all the time while you think no-one is looking,” Pidge continued. “It’s actually disgusting. You both look at each other like - like you’ve found actual God while you’re exploring the universe. Please stop,” she added.

“Wait,” Lance back tracked, his palms sweaty and heart racing. “He stares at me?”

Pidge threw her head back dramatically, groaning loudly in annoyance. “This is sickening.”

“Well, I’m sorry, but you can’t deny it,” he laughed. “Keith is hot. Keith is hot as hell.”

“I’m sure he is, Lance,” She sighed. “Will you let me finish?” 

Lance held his hands up, signalling he would back down. “Anyways, your third and probably not final mistake.” Pidge paused, and Lance observed the most shit-eating grin he’d ever seen on somebody so small.

“You really should have checked before leaving the shower that your dick wasn’t harder than rock.”

He jumped, eyes wide as he quickly glanced to scan over his crotch, only to find that Pidge had lied straight to his face. She was laughing, head thrown back and hands clutching her stomach. Lance glared at her through narrow eyes. He supposed it was karma for teasing Keith this morning.

“Well, at least now I know for sure that I wasn’t wrong,” She snorted. “Keith’s in his room. I’ll let you go now. Be safe!” She added as Lance shoved past her, cheeks blazing. Cupping her hands around her mouth, she yelled from down the hall at his rapidly distancing figure. “And don’t forget to use lots o -”

“Shut it, Pidge!” He cut her off, walking away as fast as his long legs would carry him.  
__________________________________________________________________________

Keith’s teeth ripped through his roll of medical tape, hastily placing it over the gauze covering his right side. He’d gotten minorly banged up today, and figured it would probably be unattractive if he didn’t cover up his wounds. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do about the yellow and purple bruises scattered around his body, which made him slightly uneasy. He wanted to look good for once. He wanted Lance to watch him splutter and moan and be turned on by how hot he was, just like he knew he would be watching him. He got up, walking over to his mirror and squinting at himself in the mirror. Black pants, black shirt, black hair, even black socks. Keith lifted his arm to run a finger through his drying hair, and felt a small shift in his side. He lifted up the fabric to expose his torso, only to observe the gauze already falling off, crumpled against his body. Exasperated, he sat down on his bed again, and the air hissed at the pressure change as his door opened and shut.

Lance walked in, wearing what he usually did, except today he just looked hotter. He also wasn’t sporting his usual green jacket, and his sleeves were rolled up to expose toned forearms and smooth, deep tanned skin. 

Lance cleared his throat. “Hey, hot stuff,” he greeted Keith, smiling tentatively.

“Hi,” Keith breathed, resisting the urge to clutch his chest. He wished Lance would stop teaching it new tricks.

He observed Lance leaning awkwardly against his wall. Honestly, Keith was surprised - pleasantly, but still surprised - that Lance had even come by. Part of him had really expected Lance to act like nothing had even happened. “Sorry,” he apologized, gesturing to his poorly patched up abdomen. “I’m almost done.”

Lance’s eyes shifted down to glance at the mess of gauze and tape. 

“Oh, hell no,” he chuckled softly. “Sorry, Keith, buddy. There’s no way we’re banging unless you’re patched up properly.”

Keith looked away, blushing. “I’m not very good at cleaning myself up,” he admitted. Suddenly, feeling slightly bold, he met Lance’s eyes again. “You’ll have to do it for me.”

Lance’s eyebrows raised, and he uncrossed his arms, making his way over to Keith’s bed before flopping down next to him, one ankle tucked under his other thigh. He was so close, Keith could smell the scent of his shampoo. Blood rushed in his ears. Lance held his hand out, and Keith stared at it for a moment, unsure of what it was asking for. He looked at Lance again.

“The gauze?” He asked.

“Oh! Oh, right. Right, sorry,” Keith reached behind him, handing Lance the gauze and tape. 

“No scissors?” Lance inquired.

“Uh - no, no scissors. I’ve been using my teeth,” he replied. Lance stared at him for a moment with a look didn’t recognize, but if he had to guess, it would have been incredulousness. 

“Hot,” he commented, rising to rummage around Keith’s room, returning afterwards with a small pair of scissors Keith had never used that belonged to his shaving kit. Suddenly, the tips of his ears turned pink. Should he have used them? He had no idea what Lance liked.

Leaning over Keith’s shoulders, Lance placed the scissors next to the pile of gauze and tape before softly tugging at the bottom of Keith’s shirt. Biting his lip, Keith raised his arms, inviting Lance to tug it over his head. Once his shirt was off, Lance was placing his warm fingertips on Keith’s skin, gently removing the hasty patch job and sitting down next to him.

“Yikes,” he winced. Keith said nothing. Lance’s hands were very warm.

Lance began to cut a square out of the roll of gauze and strips of medical tape, struggling slightly with the inconvenient size of the scissors and rough weave of the gauze. 

“So,” he began. “What exactly happened earlier, in the training deck?”

Keith frowned. “To be honest, I’m still not exactly sure.”

Lance hummed. “Stop moving.” 

“Sorry,” he apologized. There was a moment’s pause, Lance waiting for Keith to continue. “I - I usually go the the arena when I need to work through issues. I guess,” he swallowed, “I’ve been going more frequently than usual.”

“Since when?” Lance asked curiously.

“I don’t know. Maybe a couple months.”

“Why?”

Keith inhaled softly as Lance’s hands returned to his stomach. Lance looked up at him, before turning his face away quickly.

“I’ve been a little confused lately, I guess,” Keith shrugged.

“Stop moving.”

“Sorry.” Another pause before Keith continued. His heart was in his throat. “My chest has been aching all the time, and I’m constantly angry and frustrated, and at the same time I - well,” Keith took a faltering breath. “I can’t stop looking at you. You’re like my least and most favourite person to be around.”

He peeked a glance at Lance, who was grinning. “I must say, I’m a little flattered.”

Keith groaned and rolled his eyes. Lance was still Lance, even though he sort of liked him now.

“I’ll admit it too, Keith,” Lance’s smile never faltered. “I won’t leave you hanging.” His hands began placing various strips over the bandage on Keith’s torso. “Although I’m not as confused about having a crush, and less emo about my feelings.”

“You’re an arrogant bastard, Lance,” Keith murmured, but he couldn’t help his own smile. Lance finished up the work on his side, dusting off his hands. “Thank you.”

“Hey, anytime.” Lance’s smile was, in some ways, warmer than his fingertips. Lance leaned in closer, his nose brushing Keith’s softly. For a moment, while Lance waited for Keith’s permission, their breaths mingled - and then they were kissing, at first a light dusting of lips, which gradually morphed into a long, slow, and sensual open-mouthed make out session. Lance’s hand rested on Keith’s thigh, his other gently raising Keith’s face at his chin. Their lips moved together in soft passion, drinking the other in this time, tongues barely working against each other. Keith’s hands fluttered up to Lance’s chest, surprisingly firm, and he grabbed a fistful of fabric, pulling Lance closer.

They broke apart, both panting slightly, foreheads pressed together. Keith was, again, hard in his pants, his cock fighting against the seams in his jeans. Lance was pure, pure sin, and the fucker knew it, too. He felt slightly guilty he’d never reciprocated Lance’s touch, but then again, they never really had the chance. Keith found his lips connecting with Lance’s jaw, and he leaned to the side to give Keith better access; his lips moved and moved against his sweet skin, licking and suckling lightly every so often. When he reached the soft dip between Lance’s neck and shoulder, he bit down, maybe a little too hard - Lance took a sharp intake of breath. His jaw must have been closed, because Keith could hear it travel through his teeth. 

“Fuck, Keith,” he hissed. He was about to apologize, before Lance opened his mouth again. “You’re driving me crazy.”

Keith’s hands slid down, experimentally brushing between his legs. Lance’s hips jerked forward just barely. He was less vocal than Keith, but he knew he was doing things for Lance based on the erection he was sporting. Besides, this was probably a good thing, because Keith knew if Lance continued to groan like he did earlier, he would be a puddle on the floor. 

“Wait, wait, Keith -” Lance’s hands pressed on his chest, pushing him gently away. Keith looked at him, eyes widening with worry.

“What? Is everything okay? Did I do something wrong?” Keith asked, his voice slightly raised in pitch.  
“No, no, everything is fine,” Lance assured him. “You’re doing great, actually - really, really great.” Lance laughed, exhaling a shaky breath. He attempted to blow his bangs out of the way, but he failed, and brushed the hair off of his forehead with his fingers instead. “I just promised you I’d patch you up before we did anything, and you still have cuts all over your back I didn’t notice earlier.”

Keith let an annoyed groan escape his lips. “Lance, really, it’s fine. Let’s just keep going,” he said eagerly, scooting closer.

“Nope, sorry. That shit is going to burn if we’re rolling around in the sheets, and I don’t want to have to worry about hurting you.”

“I don’t care,” Keith grumbled. “I don’t care if you hurt me.” Lance’s mouth dropped open faintly, before he threw back his head, eyes closing, and dragged his hands down his face. Keith didn’t know what to make of that, so he continued, “Besides, I doubt you could really cause me any pain. You’re forgetting what I’ve been through - what we’ve been through. Giant robots and trained Galra fighters are literally trying to kill us on a daily basis.”

Lance sighed. “You are right, but - but I promised.”

“You’re being stubborn,” Keith snarled, getting agitated. 

“So are you,” Lance snapped back, but his eyes had darkened. Keith stared at him, and wondered if Lance was getting turned on from his hostility. Lance rose, turning away and out the door. “I’ll be back. Don’t get started without me,” He smirked, winking, and walked out.

Keith took a deep breath, frustrated with Lance’s absence. They didn’t have all night, and could be under attack at any moment - and Lance wanted to patch up his tiny scrapes and scratches? He was only a man, for hell’s sake. Keith could only take so many cold showers, and he knew well he was especially impatient. He, too, got off the bed, taking another look in the mirror. His hair was ruffled, his lips a bright red from so much kissing. A faint sheen of sweat had begun to appear on his bare abdomen, the one Lance had treated so patiently. He remembered how warm his hands had been on his skin, and how he’d looked at him before leaving. Not being able to help himself, Keith returned to the bed and promptly slipped a hand down his pants to grip himself. It wasn’t as pleasurable as the way Lance’s fingers had moved on him, but it was still a fantastic relief. He started moving his wrist up, down, and back again, flicking his wrist as he neared the top. Keith had had many weeks of practice, and he imagined Lance underneath him, writhing with pleasure, like he had so many evenings before. Lance’s name had been on his lips in the shower for a long time now, and now that he finally had him, he still had to wait. Keith refused - how unfair? - and most of him didn’t want to obey Lance’s orders.

Most of him, anyways.  
Following this, approximately 3 things happened, in a very particular order. The first was Lance, suddenly there in his room, clutching a box of bandaids and a rumble of words falling from his mouth. The second thing was his eyes - caught on Keith’s, and then rolling over his body like butter. The third was that Keith, having noticed Lance arrive, had stopped his hand movements - but after a moment’s pause, due to the inability to control himself, or the way Lance looked as his words stuttered to a stop, or how badly Keith had wanted this for so long, or possibly (probably) all three, Keith resumed fucking himself.

The box of bandaids flew to the ground, and then Lance was on top of Keith, his knees digging into his hips. Their mouths met quickly in a sloppy, fast rhythm, Lance’s hands reaching up Keith’s shirt and gliding over his chest. Keith had dragged his hand out of his pants to wrap both around his neck, pulling their bodies flush. On instinct, Lance ground his hips into his, and both boys let out deep groans - although Keith’s sounded more like a growl, in the way a cat would. Sort of embarrassed, but honestly too horny to care, he curled his own hips back up, as if begging for another hint of pleasure; Lance happily indulged him, and they began grinding and rolling to meet each other in the middle.

Tired of being on the bottom, Keith knocked one of Lance’s legs out from underneath of him and he crashed onto his back. Before he could protest, Keith was pinning him down, this time his own hands feeling as much of Lance as he could reach. He didn’t know where to put them or where to keep them, so they just kept moving of their own hunger. Eventually, they moved to fiddle with the button on Lance’s jeans, and then ripped them off completely.

It was at this time Keith experienced an emotion he had never had before, staring at Lance’s delightfully pleasing body whilst resting between his knees. It was a mix of things he’d known - contentment, the somehow gratifying pain in his chest, and the blissful buzzing that seemed to take over his entire body. For the most part, however, what overcame him was the near-obsessive compulsion to devour Lance entirely, an insatiable urge and craving to screw him until they’d both burst and scatter across the galaxy. His entire body demanded to taste him somehow, to feel his cock twitch in Keith’s hands, to hear his own name on Lance’s lips while he came; the smutty, filthy devoir of his own Galra blood.

By now he’d taken off the rest of Lance’s clothes and random garments of his own. Currently he wore boxers, his gloves, and a single sock, respectively. Lance writhed under him, completely naked, in all his heavenly glory. Keith was trailing hot, sweet kisses down his stomach, and he paused to remove his final sock, and moved on to his gloves.

“Wait,” Lance murmured on his lips. “Keep those on.”

He stopped, puzzled, and gazed at Lance’s magenta cheeks. “Why?”

“I don’t know, jus’ want you to keep them on,” he grumbled, before yanking him down again to roll around in the sheets, lips pressed hungrily together.

There were a lot of things Keith didn’t understand about Lance. He supposed that the list might never stop growing, but he was okay with that. As long as Lance continued to kiss him so good, and look as sexy as he did with ruffled hair, and look at him with those unusually dark blue eyes like he did, and laugh in loud sing-song like he did, and grab on his - oh, oh god.

“Mother fuck,” he groaned. Lance grinned, palming him again in his boxers, moving up to kiss Keith’s jaw when his lips stopped responding. 

Somehow Keith moved away, mostly because his desire to hear Lance’s pleasure overpowered his own sexual yearning. His hands grabbed Lance’s wrist, yanking his hand away, although his hips bucked one last time out of his control. He reached down below himself, to where Lance’s dick tipped upwards towards his belly, and lightly grazed his fingers along his shaft. Lance’s chest stopped moving, and Keith admired this way his eyes fluttered closed on contact. He removed his hand briefly to lick himself, coating his fingers with saliva; Lance’s eyes had opened to observe and Keith smiled at him, bringing two fingers into his mouth to suck on momentarily. Lance watched him intently, and Keith noted that he had never seen such a look of hot desire on anyone’s face prior to this moment.

The breath Lance had been holding escaped in the form of an endearing whine as Keith wrapped his hand about his shaft. He moved slowly at first, a gentle tug, which drew out short and honeyed whimpers. As time passed, and Lance to began to get slightly impatient, he quickened his pace, which drew out dynamic grunts and mewls; eventually, he hardened his grip, too, which developed Lance’s previously semi-quiet noises into loud, throaty moans and gasps. He felt a hand reach out to his groin and slapped it away, pinning it at the wrist onto the thin blankets around them.

“Stop that,” Keith growled from somewhere deep within his throat. He sounded different, raspy, desperate but not quite; sounded like Galra, and the only person to bring this out of him was Lance.

Keith leaned down to suck on his neck, kissing and biting in various places, which did not help Lance’s volume. He felt a hand fly to his shoulder, and then the sensation of nails digging into his back. This sent his heart into a wild frenzy and his instincts into overdrive; the same dirty need for control and pleasure intensifying towards a near-painful sexual frustration. His mouth moved lower and lower still, until it was too awkward to continue his handwork and he relinquished his duty momentarily to enjoy the rest of Lance’s body. By the time Keith reached the spot between Lance’s legs, somehow he was starving again, and, desperate for a taste, he licked a long stripe of saliva from the base of Lance’s cock all the way to the top.

Where his hands rested on Lance’s hips he could feel him shudder, and he continued to explore the different sounds he could issue from Lance’s mouth - this time with his lips and tongue. When he wrapped his lips around the head it earned him the mix between a sigh and a moan; when he travelled deeper, Lance keened, and when he finally felt Lance’s dick reach the back of his throat his thighs closed over his ears and ankles crossed in a knot behind his head. This caused outside noises to muffle, which Keith didn’t really like because he couldn’t hear Lance clearly. He sucked in his cheeks - hard - and Lance moaned above him, loud enough  
so that he could hear his own name from below and from between clenched thighs.

“K-Keith,” he’d said, with a hesitant thrust into his mouth. 

Keith lost control then, his head suddenly bouncing with reckless abandon, his mouth sucking so harshly his cheeks wrapped sharply around his teeth; his gloved hand moved to the base of Lance’s dick to squeeze, who cried out so loud Keith was afraid someone would hear. It didn’t stop him, though - he doubted anything in this moment could. Lance’s fingers had reached Keith’s head - he felt them entangle in the locks of his hair, and felt a small amount of pressure as Lance pushed him, willing him deeper. Although normally he would have refused, gotten up, taken control, Keith was too caught up in his own passion - the delicious sounds Lance was making, the pretty faces he was pulling, the shallow breaths he was taking. He was so caught up he forgot about his own needs and wants, instead indulging Lance in as many ways as he could. After realizing the slight burn in his lungs, Keith surfaced, panting heavily. Lance’s back was arched, his chin just high enough to block Keith’s view of his expression, but angled just so so that Keith could observe his mouth fallen open, jaw slack. 

A slew of Spanish words unidentifiable to Keith flew from his mouth as his hips stuttered, dick pushing against his mouth again. He kissed him there, and returned again to the sex, attempting to force those unfamiliar words from Lance once more. Luckily, he was rewarded - many times, in fact - by the sweet lilt in his voice, probably crying things so filthy Keith would never be able to face his friends again if he’d known the translation in English.

Lance’s feeble thrusts into his mouth became sloppier, less coordinated; Keith’s name began to frequent his mouth even more - Keith, oh, fuck, Keith - begging him, please, not to stop, not to ever stop. Keith hummed in satisfaction, and he supposed Lance could feel that, too, because suddenly he was sobbing, in english once more.

“Keith - ah, fuck, mierda, shit, I’m - I’m going to -” And then he was coming, shaking violently, void of breath and tearing Keith’s hair out. Although he hadn’t really planned on swallowing, Keith did just that, a little unexpectedly to himself. It left a tangy, salty taste on his tongue, but he didn’t mind, not really. A small price to pay, he thought, for the best moment of his life. He didn’t stop, under the control of Lance’s requests, until his orgasm had passed and he was left a sweaty, shuddering mess in Keith’s pillow.

After wiping off the mess from his lips, Keith sat back up to his knees, hands nervously resting on his hips. He was familiar with the necessity of some down time after coming, but he didn’t really know what to do in the meantime while Lance rested. With the sparse guys he’d been with in the past, years ago, he’d had no other feelings toward them beside the urge to get himself off, so they’d both finish and go home. These...feelings complicated things. What he’d previously known, Lance had taken and thrown out the window. By that, Keith meant everything - his capability to romanticize, his strictly-sexual desires, his ability to even want to be beside someone. Lance had stolen his character, wrapped it up in a neat little bow, and launched it into outer space.

Obviously sensing his discomfort, Lance patted the space beside him. “Here,” he sighed. “Come here.”

Keith obliged, crawling on his still-gloved hands and knees, to the space beside Lance’s naked body. There he lied down, his hand nervously drawing shapes on Lance’s flat, tanned stomach.

“Thank you,” Lance breathed, still cooling down. “That was the best time I’ve had in a really long while. Your mouth is basically what I imagined heaven would be like when my Mama would describe it to me, except a lot more explicit.”

Keith could sense a grin on Lance’s face, and was thankful for the simple fact that he was nobody else. 

“My pleasure,” He replied, a small smile on his lips.

They rested a few moments more, enjoying the silence, before Lance rolled to his side and looked at Keith, an eyebrow cocked. He watched as Lance’s gaze moved down to stare at his lips, then his underwear, and then back up to his eyes. “You wanna keep going, heaven?” He simpered.

“H-heaven?” Keith stuttered.

“Sure, why not? It’s fitting,” Lance smirked, “and totally not cliche.”

“Alright,” Keith choked out. He could practically feel his dick twitch in response. “And of course I want to keep going.”

Lance chuckled. “Okay,” he said, his hand slithering down to grip Keith in his boxers. Keith’s breath hitched at the sudden pressure. “Just wanted to make sure.”

Keith whimpered, hips rutting against his palm. The cloth barrier between his cock and Lance’s palm rubbed against him, and he held back whatever noise was threatening to spill from his throat. He was met with the sensation of Lance’s silken lips greeting his, opening them slowly and deliciously, warming his mouth with his tongue. 

“Honestly, Lance,” Keith groaned against his lips, “I might need you to hurry it up a bit.”  
“Why’s that?” Lance responded, eyes wide with the false pretence of innocence. Keith could have sworn his hand slowed down.

“Well, you’ve been kind of edging me all day, and - and I really want to come, like, now - this instant, which probably wouldn’t take much at this point.” Keith shuddered, nearly feeling his blood heat up. “So, fuck me a little harder, now, would you?”

“Oh, I’m sorry - what was that? You wanted to... what-now?” Lance teased, his eyes fluttering, head cocked to the side. Keith could really feel hot-blooded now.

“I’m not fucking around,” He growled, shooting up straight to glare at Lance. He watched as his face morphed into a similar expression to earlier, when they had been in the training deck, pinned against the wall. Keith seized the wrist of the hand resting on his aching dick, clutching hard. “You either screw me now, hard and fast, or I’ll do it myself.”

“Jesus Christ, Keith. Yes, sir,” Lance breathed, scrambling off the bed. He yanked Keith towards him so that his legs fell off the side of the bed, and knelt down in between his knees, suddenly submissive to Keith’s demands. 

Keith felt his legs being pushed apart, and then Lance’s hand on his erection, stroking him through his boxers. A moan ripped through his throat - he definitely wasn’t going to last long. He opened his eyes - when did he even close them? - to the vision of Lance, hands at Keith’s hips, gazing up at him with big, open eyes. Shuddering at the moment of sudden intimacy, he leaned down for a short kiss, before Lance tore the rest of his clothes off and reached to grasp his member. He screwed him in quick strokes, lips pressed to the inside of his thigh, fingers flicking his head and wrist twisting backwards and forwards.

Keith had to admit: this moment, watching Lance handle him so expertly, chocolate eyes staring at him with such earnest intimacy and giving out pleasure like he’d had bucket loads in his back pocket, took the cake for his favourite memory so far in space. It also took the cake for his favourite view, his most surreal experience, and for the quickest and hardest he’d ever come to orgasm.

Lance had merely pressed his flat, hot tongue the tip of Keith’s dick and he’d exploded, white hot pleasure pumping through his veins, body jolting in the sudden bursts of sexual gratification. All though, in his defence, Lance had still been peering up at him, and the image of him with pink, saliva-sodden lips, flushed cheeks, bashful eyes, and mussed hair hadn’t exactly been forgiving to holding off.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” Keith apologized, upon gaining his senses to the current look Lance was wearing. It wasn’t pretty - well, it was, sort of, in a disgustingly sexy way - and Keith didn’t really want to delve into details, but there was definitely… a substance in his hair.

Lance was grinning. “S’okay,” he said, rising and making his way towards the bathroom in Keith’s room. When he returned, his face had been washed and parts of his hair slightly damp with water. “I’m sure it makes a great moisturizer.”

Keith’s face twisted in disgust. “That’s…”

“I’m joking,” Lance laughed. “Let’s get dressed. I still haven’t eaten, and my stomach might implode if I don’t get a bite soon.” He approached Keith, who was still situated on the edge of the bed, and lifted up his chin into a gentle kiss. 

Keith would never get used to this.  
__________________________________________________________________________

A short burst of giggles. Hands reaching in the darkness. Unexpected and soft kisses. A bruise left from bumping into the wall. 

All things that accompanied the trip to the kitchen to where Lance and Keith snuck away a small supply of Altean energy bars and water. It was, for some reason, thrilling for Lance. He felt giddy, like that time as child he’d hid a small frog from his parents when he’d returned home from the park. Quick memories of home flitted across his eyelids, leaving a bittersweet taste on his tongue to accompany the leftover taste of salt and sex.

After some fumbling around, Keith had opened a door to a small room in which the entire wall facing them was taken up by a substantial window. They sat, bums scooched up towards the glass, leaning on each other’s shoulders. Space stretched for an endless distance in ahead of them, speckled with stars and distant planets.

Lance pressed his fingers to the glass, almost wishing it away. He would give anything to be home now - to be with his family, and his old friends. To be lying in the field outside his home, blades of grass tickling his back, listening to the bustle of street cars and bicycles. He would give the world to hear the distant voice of his Mama calling him in for dinner, the tune of his siblings giggling while playing with something they probably weren’t supposed to, to see his parents give each other gross kisses on cheeks that he now knew weren’t really gross. He missed Earth like he’d never missed anything before. It had stuck a foreign pit of sadness in his chest, which had refused to budge the moment he’d been launched, unwillingly, into space, and faced with the responsibility of rescuing the entire universe.

A warm hand grazed the small of his back. Keith. 

“You okay?” Keith asked. Lance turned his head to view Keith’s face, darkened by the shadows, looking at him with deep concern.

“Sure,” Lance replied wistfully. He felt distant himself. “I just...miss it. I miss home. I get how important being up here is, but… I’d give so much to be back on Earth.”

Keith’s gaze flitted to the darkness of space. “Tell me what you miss.”

Lance made a noise of surprise. He’d never seen Keith invite him into vulnerability. “Unless you don’t want to talk about it,” Keith continued in response.

“No, no - I mean, sure. Yeah. I guess I do,” Lance stuttered. He heaved a sigh. How many things did he miss? Could he even count them on his fingers? “I miss my friends and family above all, but those things are a given, I guess. As for the little things… I miss the beach. The hot sand and the cold water on warm days. Summer in Cuba was hellish, but I still miss it. I miss the rain, too. There was nothing better to me than falling asleep listening to the rain on my roof.” If he closed his eyes, Lance could almost hear it. “If it’s a thunderstorm, it’s even better. Although, my dog would get scared during thunderstorms. I miss my dog,” he added. “I miss everything. I could go on for days.”

“Good thing we have all night,” Keith smiled. Lance swore his heart would burst through his chest. He looked so sweet, so innocent, wrapped up in a thin blanket and gazing at the stars. His dark black hair lay softly on his neck, right hand propping up his chin, and his knees were pulled up to his chest. Every bit of his being urged Lance closer. Keith, he realized, was the first person to make him feel like home, even though they were millions of light years away.

“What about you?” Lance inquired. “What do you miss?”

“Well,” Keith sighed, “We didn’t get much rain in Texas. And,” he swallowed, “I didn’t have much family. But I do miss the sun - it was nice to warm up to in the mornings. I liked taking walks when it was rising over the outcrops. Sometimes, I’d even take off my shoes to feel the sand between my toes.”

Lance hummed in response. He missed that too. 

“Also, being so far away from the city, you could really see the sky,” Keith continued. “I would watch it all day. At night, you could see the entire milky way - that was pretty, too.”

Lance squeezed his eyes shut. He could see it, the picture Keith was painting, if he tried hard enough. Keith lowered his voice, still speaking, but softer and drawn out. He reminisced about the warm colours of the sky in the afternoon, and the feel of sunshine on his skin, until Lance’s eyelids felt heavy, and he drifted into a peaceful sleep to the sound of Keith’s voice.  
__________________________________________________________________________

Keith gently lied Lance down in his bed, admiring the way his hair curled on the edges of his face. He’d fallen asleep on his shoulder - Keith had done that on purpose, really, tried to talk him to sleep. Lance had mustered up a look of such awful sadness, Keith couldn’t remember a time in his own life he must have felt such a way. So he lulled Lance to sleep, and, upon realizing he didn’t know where Lance slept, carried him to his own room. 

Keith got into bed, too. Initially, he hoped Lance wouldn’t mind, but Lance had unconsciously pulled him closer, so he suspected not. It was his first taste of sleeping next to someone. Lance was incredibly warm, and, as a result, very cozy, so Keith decided he liked it. 

Although he was sure he would never be used to this - the sweetness in Lance’s smile when they looked at each other, the pleasure of fooling around with him, even the gentle sighs Lance made while sleeping - Keith was sure looking forward to trying.


End file.
